


Unwind (Like a Twisted Peppermint Stick)

by strawberryrose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Infidelity, Multi, Voyeurism, unintended use of office furniture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 13:09:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5498126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberryrose/pseuds/strawberryrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Astoria hadn’t received any particular training when she volunteered to be on the Ministry’s Annual Christmas Party Planning Committee. However, if she had, this would likely not have been covered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unwind (Like a Twisted Peppermint Stick)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for hp_unfaithful’s Pseudo-Advent Calendar Festlet in 2012, for the prompt “condoms”, and slightly edited just this November. Infidelity isn’t my kink, so I had no idea what I was doing tbh? It’s Christmas, though, and I’m really fond of this fic, so here you go!

The moment Astoria stepped off the lift and onto the carpeted floor of Level Five, she almost sighed aloud in relief. The thin padding wasn’t much, but she had been on her feet for the better part of two solid weeks, and at this point anything was a godsend. She stood just outside the doors of the lift for a long moment and pinched the bridge of her nose wearily. What had possessed her to join the Ministry’s Annual Christmas Party Planning Committee when she had a two-year-old at home?

Oh, yes. She loved Christmas and loved big parties, and with her father-in-law still under house arrest there weren’t so many folks who were willing to attend a party at Malfoy Manor. When the sign-up sheet had gone around back in August, it had seemed like it would be a lovely change of pace.

Astoria gathered herself and began the long trudge down darkened corridors toward her office. After four months of designing invitations, cataloguing RSVPs, orchestrating decorating teams, yelling at caterers, and mediating between rival bands, a little bit of bland cauldron thickness regulation was sounding very welcome indeed. Before that, though, there appeared to be yet another crisis with the live entertainment for her to sort out. Though they were listed on the timetable for half nine exactly, The Wandering Stars had failed to show up, and now the nine o’ clock gig - an amateur group - had run over by fifteen minutes and was running out of material and the ten-thirty group was scrambling to relieve them but could only get prepared so fast and as soon as she found out who was to blame, Astoria was going to bloody well hex someone.

Well, now. That was a bit different, wasn’t it?

About twenty feet from her office, laying in the middle of the corridor, was a small cardboard box. Astoria’s wand was in her hand instantly, but a few quick checks proved that the box and its contents were entirely mundane in nature. She scooped the package up.

Oh, it appeared to be a box of those Muggle contraceptive devices. Condoms. A small smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth. It seemed as though some impatient couple had stolen away to the offices to have a mid-party shag. Astoria’s frown returned. Wizards didn’t often use condoms - there were spells for that. Did they have any muggleborns in International Magical Cooperation? Who in the world was wandering their halls unsupervised?

Astoria glanced around warily and her breath caught in her throat. The door of the office directly across from hers was ajar. That door was absolutely never ajar. That was Percy Weasley’s office. Merlin’s pants, she could only imagine the kind of fit Percy would pitch if he found out some fruity young couple had been having sex in his office. Well, there was one easy way to assure office peace. Her mind spinning through all the cleaning and freshening spells she knew, Astoria marched toward the darkened office.

Astoria bit down on a gasp and reflexively leapt back out of the doorway and out of sight. No. There was no way she’d just seen what she thought she’d seen. She silently cast the strongest disillusionment charm she could muster and, placing one hand over her mouth so as to discourage any more unintentional noises, peeked back around the door frame.

Good god, it really was what she’d thought. The person having sex - or snogging, rather - in Percy Weasley’s office was, in fact, Percy Weasley.

That was not Audrey Weasley. That was a man.

It was very dark in the room, and his back was to the door, but Astoria could make out short, dark hair and broad shoulders. There was definitely something familiar about him, but Astoria couldn’t quite place it. Whoever he was, Percy was snogging him like he’d never have another chance. Well, come to think of it, he might not.

He was actually seated on the edge of his desk - the first time Astoria had seen him sit on anything other than a chair - with his knees on either side of the other man’s hips and his hands spread out across his back. The other man, for his part, had one of his hands cupping the back of Percy’s head, mussing the fastidiously neat red hair. She couldn’t spot his other hand, but when Percy’s perfectly pressed dress robes began to fall away, she could guess what it was up to.

“Are you sure?” Percy whispered nervously. “Right here?”

“If you were worried about doing it here, why is this where you brought me?” The gently teasing voice was pleasant and just a touch gravelly and maddeningly familiar. Astoria chewed on the inside of her cheek as Percy sputtered a bit but didn’t object when the man began to undo the buttons on his shirt. Who _was_ he? She knew that voice. One of Draco’s friends? One of Daphne’s, maybe? From the back, he looked a bit like a male version of Pansy, come to think of it. The black hair, of course, but also the moderately short stature. He was built rather solidly, too - like her - but not heavily, and moved lightly on his feet as he turned to-

Astoria’s muscles all tightened as she froze in place and prayed that her disillusionment was strong enough.

Harry Potter. _Merlin._

She waited until Harry had shed his own robe and recaptured Percy’s lips, their eyes falling shut, before allowing herself to sink to the floor. The roughness of the carpet beneath her hand stood as a bizarre proof that what she was seeing was somehow real. Would a hallucinating brain produce such a mundane discomfort as scratchy office carpeting? She rather thought not.

Harry pushed Percy’s shirt off his shoulders. Seeing her persnickety colleague shirtless was almost more surreal than seeing him snogging Harry Potter. She’d seen him kiss his wife before - perfunctory little kisses, but still - but the most skin she’d ever seen from him were his bare forearms the time someone in maintenance had managed to botch up the air conditioning spells. He was covered in freckles and thin red hair all the way up to where his arms disappeared into his rolled sleeves, and he’d blushed when he caught her eyes wandering. She’d thought it was sweet. It became the start of their friendship.

It was hard to reconcile that the man who blushed over the slightest bit of innocent exposed skin was the same one who sat before her now, his hands busy with Harry Potter’s elegant gold tie while they kissed with obviously open mouths. She had always thought of Percy as fussy and pompous and somewhat insecure; quite like her Draco, really.

Well, nothing like the affections of the most powerful wizard on earth to boost one’s confidence, or so she had to imagine.

Merlin, what were they _thinking_? Percy had a wife and two little daughters at home, and Harry had two sons. Come to think of it, wasn’t Harry’s wife pregnant again? The papers could never stop talking about it when she was. Draco liked to grouse that you’d think she was giving birth to the next royal baby, from all the attention she received. How did either of them think they could get away with this with the kind of media coverage the Potters tended to attract? Did they really think no one was going to find out that Harry Potter was shagging his brother-in-law? Were they really willing to risk their families for this?

At that moment, Harry slipped a hand into Percy’s trousers and Percy shivered, dropping his forehead to Harry’s shoulder.

“Harry.” His voice was barely more than a breath. Astoria could feel her skin heating, though with the disillusionment in effect she didn’t visibly colour. How could she possibly be watching this? If she was smart, she would just get up and leave and pretend she’d never seen any of it.

“I brought something fun,” Harry murmured from where he’d been laying a string of kisses along Percy’s shoulder. “But first-“ Harry conjured a single lit candle which floated beside Percy’s desk. Astoria’s mouth fell open. The faint light from the false windows had been enough for her to make out their identities and tell what they were doing, but with the flickering glow of the candle’s flame she could see the dusting of freckles on Percy’s chest, the flush of Harry’s skin, the scarring on the back of his hand as he withdrew it from Percy’s trousers.

On the subject of scars… Astoria followed Harry’s gaze and eyed the deep scar that sliced through the thick freckles on Percy’s left shoulder. The pink colour of it was a bit angry; if it was a curse wound, it definitely hadn’t healed right. Well. That would explain why she’d seen him rolling that shoulder painfully from time to time. Harry smoothed one large hand over the scar, frowning. There was the slightest twitch in Percy’s face in response.

“It’s been almost ten years. Does it still give you trouble? I’d thought it might.”

“No, no, it’s fine.”

_It’s not fine,_ Astoria wanted to cry out, a little bit of a scolding building on the back of her tongue. She was relieved to see that same sentiment write itself across Harry’s face.

“You should have Bill take a look at it,” Harry said quietly. “Cursebreaker, after all. Or Charlie - he knows some pretty good medical magic.” He ran a finger up the length of the scar, and a coil of power - wandless, primal, profoundly intimate - shot up Astoria’s core. She shivered and her toes curled inside her formal boots. This was not something intended for anyone but the two of them to witness.

“It’s fine,” Percy protested weakly once more, though his eyelids were fluttering from the same magic Astoria had felt. Harry leaned in and kissed him gently.

“Just a quick look,” he whispered against Percy’s lips. “For me. Because it’s Christmas.”

Percy’s expression melted. “Because it’s Christmas.” They kissed again, soft and slow.

“I have a gift for you, too,” Harry said as he finally pulled away, impishness on his face. He reached a hand for his back pocket. “It just needs a little-“ He cut off and checked his other pocket. “Did I drop it?”

Oh Christ.

Of course, the condoms - which Astoria still had in her hand - belonged to Harry. Rumour was, he lived with one foot in the Muggle world. He began to turn toward the door and Astoria panicked somewhat, diving for the darkness of the corridor. She landed with a very strangled huff and a swish of fabric which she could only pray neither of them heard, then dragged her legs out of the light before crawling a few more feet and pressing her back to the wall. The box had barely dropped from her fingertips when Harry appeared in the doorway.

Astoria froze and held her breath. She was going to be caught. There was absolutely no way she wasn’t. Harry Potter was barely three feet from her, and she had never been unusually talented at disillusionment. His eyes swept the floor. Merlin, what would he do with her? She hadn’t the mildest idea. Nothing genuinely awful, she had to assure herself; she wasn’t sure what she thought about Harry’s integrity at that moment (he was cheating on his wife and risking the good name of his family, but on the other hand he _had_ once saved her husband’s life and he obviously cared for Percy), but Percy was a good person and liked her and wouldn’t let Harry fly off the handle.

Right?

Harry made a little sound of satisfaction when he spotted the box. He dipped down into a crouch to pick it up. Astoria’s whole world slowed as the tips of Harry’s disorderly hair passed less than an inch from her face. She could smell the musk of his cologne and the aroma of the shrimp hors d’oeuvre she’d argued with the caterers about for two whole days. Then he was standing and returning to the room, not bothering to close the door behind him.

Astoria slumped onto her side on the floor. She hadn’t been caught. He must not have suspected a thing; must not have looked right at her; there was no way he’d have missed her if he’d been at all on alert. She stayed there for a bit, the rustling of clothes from inside the room only barely audible over the pounding of her heart.

Oh, what a bloody fine example of a Malfoy wife she was at that moment. The thought wormed its way up into her consciousness and was almost wry enough to make her laugh. She couldn’t possibly imagine her mother-in-law ever disillusioned and curled up on the floor in a public place, even if she’d been seconds, centimetres, a breath away from invoking Harry Potter’s wrath.

“Hey, no peeking!” That was Harry’s voice, bright and teasing and not in the least bit frightening. “Your gift needs a little assembly. Just hang on.” Astoria pushed herself up on her elbows, gathering her wits. “There you go, one wrapped Christmas present.”

To Astoria’s surprise and rather uninvited curiosity, Percy gave a startled laugh. “I absolutely cannot believe you.”

Well. If she hadn’t been caught when Harry came into the corridor, it seemed unlikely anyone would notice if she took one more peek. She bit at her lower lip, hesitating. Far be it from her to deny either the inquisitive nature that had almost gotten her sorted into Ravenclaw or the deeply ingrained contrariness that had ultimately landed her in Slytherin. Slowly, she peered past the door frame.

Both men had entirely disrobed in the interim. Percy was still perched on the edge of the desk, and Astoria resisted the sudden urge to check if his prick was as freckled as the rest of him. Harry stood a few feet away, hands on his hips and a cheeky grin on his face. His erection (Merlin, but he was thick) jutted up, covered with one of the condoms - it was striped white and red like a candy cane. Astoria grinned in spite of herself. That explained an awful lot.

“Do I unwrap my present, or use it as it is?” Percy flushed all the way down his chest as he spoke. Astoria was neither expecting nor sure she welcomed the rush of heat in her chest that accompanied his husky tone. Harry closed the distance between them and stood flush with Percy’s body, Percy’s legs wrapping instinctively around Harry’s hips, and Harry’s peppermint stick brushing against- oh yes, Percy was indeed freckled there.

“You have to receive your present before you can unwrap it.”

Astoria rearranged her legs a bit uncomfortably as Harry and Percy crashed together in a desperate, passionate kiss. Merlin, this whole Christmas party thing must have really driven her round the bend. What other explanation was there for going from disturbed to terrified to aroused all in the span of - what - five minutes?

Harry’s hands began to dance over Percy’s skin, stroking here, rubbing in circles there. It wasn’t until Percy moaned that Astoria realized she was learning all of his best spots. One of Percy’s familiar, long-fingered hands (oh God, was she really going to watch this?) reached between them and gathered their pricks together. Harry inhaled sharply and bucked once into Percy’s hand. Percy began a rhythm that was a touch more intense than Astoria had expected from him while Harry scrabbled for something beyond them on the desk.

It was Percy’s wand he came up with - the reddish wood was unremarkable, but Harry’s wand was a memorable, striking white - and waved it left-handed. Through the conduit of the wand Astoria couldn’t feel the spells, but she could guess at what they might have been as the fingers of Harry’s right hand suddenly glistened with moisture and - with a bit of gentle encouragement - Percy slipped into a full recline on the desk with no apparent discomfort.

Harry didn’t take his eyes off of Percy’s face for a moment as his hands disappeared between Percy’s legs. Astoria wasn’t sure whether she was relieved or disappointed that Percy’s thigh blocked her view of precisely what was happening there. Then Percy bit his lip and let out a shuddering breath, and Astoria nearly forgot all about Harry’s hands.

“All right, Perce?”

Percy nodded without opening his eyes or releasing his lip. Astoria was mesmerized by the rapid, slightly muddled play of emotions over his face as Harry (ostensibly) fingered him. She twisted her hips against the floor unthinkingly. She’d never tried that activity with Draco - putting her fingers up there had always seemed a bit gross, to be honest - but if it could elicit this kind of response even from starchy, reserved Percy, then perhaps it was something to consider.

Percy actually whimpered when Harry shifted and his right hand came back into view.

“Shhh, hang on.” Harry’s voice and expression were both fiery as he worked his slick hand over his garishly-attired prick. When he positioned himself, Astoria pressed a hand to her mouth and otherwise did not move an inch.

Percy’s face tightened as Harry began to push in. Harry’s hands moved to Percy’s hips, steadying and rubbing in soothing circles. His own expression was somewhat broken open; Astoria recognized the look well - Draco was the same way when they made love. When Harry settled all the way in and paused, Percy’s eyes flew open. Harry pulled back and drove in.

With that, Percy came completely undone. All the tension drained out of his face, being replaced by a wondrous ecstasy. He grasped at the edge of the desk with one hand, fumbling for purchase, while with his other he reached out to find Harry’s hand - the clean one, Astoria noticed. Even like this, he was still Percy. Harry, thrusting at a respectable pace, laced his fingers with Percy’s and held tight.

It wasn’t until Harry’s movements began to grow erratic that Astoria realized she’d been rolling her hips in time with his efforts. She stopped immediately, though positively aching for release, and bit hard at the inside of her cheek when she was tempted to continue.

Percy mouthed some word at Harry. Harry, his audible breathing unsteady, took Percy’s - she bit down harder - leaking prick in his free hand and began to stroke. Percy’s own heavy breaths changed into little desperate whimpers, which in turn became small, sharp cries accompanying every one of Harry’s movements.

Percy’s face crumpled and he bucked up from the desk. He came with a wordless, shuddering exclamation. Astoria tingled from the waist down, and she tasted blood. Harry’s head dropped and his hips began to jerk moments after Percy’s spasms began, as if he’d been holding himself back.

Once their movements had stilled, Harry - his chest still heaving somewhat - slowly pulled out and leaned heavily against the desk. Percy struggled up onto his elbows, Harry helped him the rest of the way, and the two men held each other. Harry nuzzled into Percy’s good shoulder. The lines of Percy’s face were relaxed and warm like Astoria had never seen before.

“Percy,” Harry murmured adoringly.

Astoria uncovered her mouth and took a deep, silent breath before getting to her feet. It was with a strange feeling that she took one last glance into the office before turning to leave the pair to their afterglow.

The walk back to the lift was almost surreal. Dismay and arousal in general, fear toward Harry if he discovered that she knew and yet a gratitude that he would provide the love that was absent in Percy’s marriage, a quite inappropriate protectiveness where Percy was concerned - how could she be feeling it all at once? How could she be feeling some of it at _all_? How could what she’d just witnessed have come to be?

She stood just outside the doors of the lift for a long moment, removing the disillusionment charm and straightening herself up. The ride to the atrium seemed longer than usual, and her feet ached. Eric the watchman gave her a smile and nod as she rounded the corner into the ballroom. She feared that she smile she gave in response was rather weak.

“Ah, Astoria,” Draco greeted her when she sought him out among the crowd, then paused. “Are you all right?” The genuine concern on his face was a rarity, if for no other reason than because she rarely gave him opportunity for concern.

Astoria glanced around the room. The bands had resolved their earlier problem, though Astoria still had no idea who was to blame. A very pregnant Mrs Potter stood chatting brightly with her Auror brother near the shrimp. Audrey Weasley was mingling with other Ministry wives as far away from the music as they could get. Not one other soul knew that three floors down something forbidden and exquisite had taken place.

“I’m just tired. This party has me wound a bit tight.”

Subtly, Draco laid a hand on Astoria’s back, just where she liked it most. “I’ve heard quite a few remarks that this is the best Ministry party in several years.”

“Well of course it is.” It had better be.

Astoria wasn’t sure whether Draco’s smug grin was belied or complimented by the proud gleam in his eyes. She did, however, know that his warm hand was distinctly urging the arousal to win out from among her confused tangle of emotions. She snaked a hand up to the waist of his trousers and slipped her fingers beneath the fabric. Draco’s eyes widened and he gave that cute bat of his lashes that she’d never mentioned she loved.

“I was thinking, maybe the party can get on without us for a little while.”

“Your desk or mine?”

“Restroom’s closer.”

Draco laughed.

“You know, I’ve got something new to try out that you might like…”

  
~End~  


**Author's Note:**

> This was, I think, only the second time I’d ever written sex. I think it shows a little, ahaha. For context, though, So Very Lovely was the fourth.
> 
> Love love, everyone! ♥ And Merry Christmas!


End file.
